


Heir of Asgard

by OkieDokieLoki



Series: Sons of the Nine [5]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:02:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23762782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OkieDokieLoki/pseuds/OkieDokieLoki
Summary: The conclusion of the Sons of the Nine series find Loki and Thor welcoming their long-awaited child.
Relationships: Balder/Nanna (Marvel), Frigga | Freyja & Loki & Odin & Thor (Marvel), Frigga | Freyja/Odin (Marvel), Loki/Thor
Series: Sons of the Nine [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1254620
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	Heir of Asgard

Loki was roused to waking within his arms, every minute movement thrilling him in ways that his husband could never truly know. He was an enigma, wrapped in a ferocious exterior that his lover found less than appealing and that he found endlessly fascinating and mesmerizing. And, in his moments before waking, he was even more captivating.

His skin, thick lines of silver creating mountain ranges over deep cobalt and azure pools, captured the sun’s early rays by lighting with veins of lavender, ruby, gold, and platinum. The lines almost seemed to become more frequent over his stretched abdomen. _Jotunn stretch marks_ , he mused, placing a kiss on his husband’s cheek while his hand slid over the surprisingly smooth expanse that his ( _our_ ) child rolled beneath.

The Jotunn inhaled slowly, his developing chest rising with a prolonged expansion of his compressed lungs, before his ruby eyes blinked open one after the other. The Jotunn squinted at him, his lips quirking before he released a low, guttural groan, “Morning, Thor.”

He beamed back, pressing another kiss to his cheek. “Good morning, Beloved,” he breathed, his hands still stroking the slightly warmer rounding of the blue being’s abdomen. “I love you.”

The rubies opposite him rolled exaggeratedly before they closed and a cool sigh brushed across his features. “Why?”

The one word question sliced through him as it had before when his loved had been questioned the first time. “Why not?” he replied, a question for a question.

A cold hand crept over his own, cupping it as their child continued to roll. “You know why.” The ruby eyes remained closed, unable to look at him.

“Enlighten me,” he responded, his voice soft and understanding. “Tell me why I shouldn’t love you.”

“ _Thor._ ” The word, his name, held such pain behind it that he had a brief moment of regret. _No, Loki needs to see that he is perfect and that it why I love him_.

“Tell me,” he reiterated once more, cupping Loki’s chiseled face with his other hand. _Please open your eyes, those perfect embers full of fire and passion._

The eyes remained closed even as the Jotunn inhaled sharply once more. “I am not what the Aesir or the rest of the Nine will accept as a Queen. I was called a traitor by your father for taking what was rightfully mine. I run from responsibility unless I get something from it. I am a trickster who thrives in times of chaos. I am a twisted monster on every realm that I tread.” The eyes he wanted to open flew open and sharply focused. “Do you wish for me to continue?”

He shook his head, his tangle of hair catching on the silk of the pillow beneath it. “I still don’t hear a reason for me to stop loving you.” He laughed, fervently gripping his lover’s cheek before continuing, “Because everything you have just said is everything that has made me love you more every passing moment of every passing day.”

Loki’s nostrils flared and his jaw set. “You’re a _liar_ , Odinson.”

“You’re the God of Lies. Am I?” he asked, his eyebrows raising and his laugher twisted into a smirk.

The nostrils across from him flared wider and the jaw ground, lips twisting into a snarl.

“Have I out-tricked the Trickster?” he breathed, pulling the cold frame closer until his stomach, complete with thrashing child, collided with his abdomen. “Because I love that you stood up for your heritage and your true people, regardless of what Odin wanted. I love that you thrive on the battlefield, which is why you are your brother’s leading general and you are my battle partner. I love that you see multiple options for solutions that can produce good outcomes for more than one party. And, I admit, that you are not the usual form and figure for a queen. That is the only thing I will give you. But you are a warrior and warriors are not without their scars. I know it is difficult for you but I would have you wear them proudly before the Nine.”

He tilted his chin, capturing Loki’s stunned lips with his own, and kissed the man he loved more than anything else in all the Nine.

_ _ _ _ _

Thor, as usual, had given him much to think about and, for the first time in what seemed like forever, he had listened. The man had grown wise in their time apart, so much so that his proclamation that morning almost a month previous had startled him into realizing that Thor was right. Despite his own misgivings, he was what the Nine Realms needed and, ever the obedient Jotunn, he would serve.

So long as Thor was there beside him.

“Ready, Loki?”

He smiled, his lips quirking as Thor’s warm hand slipped under his own, his thumb tracing and chasing the ridges there. He turned from the gathered assembly and their open curiosity to meet his husband’s tender gaze. The King’s loving eyes gave him strength to continue, as he always did. After all, Thor saw his flaws as advantages. Their child tumbled about beneath his thinning skin as if sensing his trepidation. He quieted it with his other hand, stroking his stretched abdomen with his gnarled hand.

Turning back, emboldened once more, he looked out at the populace and braced himself for the barrage. The lines had been forming for hours now, they always did. General audiences were the worst in that regard because anyone and everyone could come and present their case before the All-Father and the All-Bearer. Most of the people who came were not there for aid. They were there for a show and, most days, it was difficult not to give them one. So many issues were so petty and simplistic that they almost seemed fictional and he found his temper growing shorter with every case. Too many saw general audiences as a way to get into the young Court of Thor Odinson to see the Golden God and his hideously demonic, Jotunn ‘wife’ for themselves. _The pregnancy must be setting all their tongues wagging,_ he mused, still rubbing his stomach as Thor continued to rub the back of his hand with his thumb. _Their fervor could die once the child is born and I am no longer gravid…_

His attention was pulled from his musings by another firmer squeeze of his hand. “Ready?”

He nodded, fixing his mask on his features and looking out at the populace as he straightened in his chair once more.

“I, Thor Odinson, King of Asgard, call the first case forward,” his husband intoned, his voice cutting through the murmurs with little effort. Such was the power of the All-Father. Theman pulled his hand over onto his knee, the gesture looking protective and united before the people.

_ _ _ _ _

“Well, Mother,” he sighed, settling his frankly rotund body into a chair before his makeshift shrine, “I wish I could not only speak with you, but hear your words of wisdom in turn.”

The child rolled between his hands, which seemed to constantly be on his abdomen these days, cradling, rubbing, or teasing the bump that was throwing off his balance horribly. He glanced down at it, well aware that he was not nearly as large as he felt even if he had trouble looking past his modest breasts and globe-like lower torso, his belly button sticking straight up despite being concave for all of his life.

“My time nears. I can feel it.” His voice trembled softly, revealing his inner fears for the shrine, and maybe his mother, to hear.

Swallowing, he continued to spill his inner thoughts to the image of his predecessor, “I’m afraid, Mother. I fear the pain of birth but I fear that this child will not look like Odin - an Aesir in appearance despite its blood. I fear that this child will not be male, or not entirely so, and Thor will elevate it to the position of heir regardless. I fear that I will be a bad mother, a poor parent, because I never thought that I would be a mother and how do I do that?! I fear so much, Mother. I-I just want you. Here. With me. _I need you_.”

The woman continued to smile at him, her own hands cradling the small swell that had become Thor. Her eyes seemed to hold all the secrets to the world that he was about to enter and she had no way of spilling her secrets. Not even to her favorite child.

“Loki.”

Surprised, he slowly (He was so much less flexible now than he had ever been) rose and turned to see the last person he was expecting in his quiet little room. “Hela?” he breathed, shocked.

His sister, Queen of the Damned, gave him a small smile and extended her hand to him. Nanna, standing slightly behind the other, more powerful woman also smiled back at him.

Instantly, he began to cry, a terribly common occurrence, especially after his morning sickness had subsided and his hormones began to run rampant through his body. Warm hands wrapped his taller and significantly more bulbous frame into two tight hugs. “Shh, Brother,” Nanna murmured, “You are doing so well. We’re so proud of you.”

“How can I do this?” he muttered, his voice muffled by Hela’s shoulder. “I never wanted this.”  
“I know,” his eldest sibling replied. “It’s alright to cry. We’re here. We’ll be here for everything. Promise.”

Nanna rubbed his back ridges, acknowledging her sister-in-law’s words with her strong silence. The action was comforting, his ridges humming with the contact and the release of endorphins.

They remained stationary for a time, enjoying the closeness and the support of each other. While he had Thor and his endless support, he had not truly had any time with anyone else. His pregnancy, an incredible gift in itself, was also quite isolating. He was male but carrying a child, an enigma. And on Asgard, unlike if he was bearing a child on Jotunnheim, he was the only one.

After a bit, his lower back began to ache as it tended to when he stood motionless for long periods of time, the child weighing heavily upside down in his pelvic bowl. Inhaling sharply, he relaxed his arms, releasing his sisters, and began to wipe the crystals from his face. “Thank you,” he breathed, smiling shyly as a blush flooded his cheeks. “I truly can’t do this by myself and Thor, Norns bless him, he doesn’t understand.”

“Technically,” Hela stated playfully as she grinned at him, “Neither of us do either.” She reached across his gravid frame to grasp Nanna’s hand with one of hers. “Neither of us ever will.” They both smiled up at him, their eyes a bit bleary. He knew that he had a gift that they would never have, considering that they were both infertile. It was something that he had realized the moment he had come into skin to skin contact with them after his anointing as the All-Bearer and it broke his heart. Both women would have been incredible mothers.

“Such is the blessing of the All-Bearer,” his sister murmured, her smile still on her pale lips.

He shook his head, his thick hair catching on his horns. “A blessing or a curse. Only time will tell.”

“A blessing. Always a blessing,” Nanna replied, still beaming tearily, her hand continuously rubbing his back tenderly.

_ _ _ _ _

It was after Hela’s arrival that he allowed some of his attention to stray from his new duties as All-Bearer and his continuous drive for perfection in the eyes of the Aesir to focus on the impending arrival of his child. He had put off so much, he quickly realized, not out of laziness but from lack of knowledge.

“What do you have in the nursery?” his sister had asked after their moment in the shrine to their mother.

“What?” he asked, a sinking feeling crashing through his cramped viscera. “I-I haven’t thought about it…I have a room in mind but I haven’t put anything in it. I just assumed the babe would sleep in a basket by my side of the bed.”

“Loki,” Nanna stated, her voice firm, “You can do that for the first few weeks but that child does not need to be beside you every minute of every day. You and Thor will want your own space.”

The women had quickly set him straight, helping him set up a small room right next to the bedroom he shared with his husband into a cute nursery. They helped him find a crib, a rocker with comfortable cushions, a bassinet, and a changing table. The room was light and airy, with one large window that he had framed with cream curtains made of a wispy material and light yellow paint on the walls, courtesy of his husband and his brother.

He had gone shopping, accompanied by his sister and sister-in-law, lumbering about markets on Asgard, Aelfheim, Vanaheim, and Jotunnheim looking for baby clothes, blankets, diapers, and teething toys.

His favorite purchase came from Vanaheim, the Summer Realm. He had not necessarily enjoyed his trip there, covered in frost and still overly hot but he appreciated the beauty of the realm that had given him his perfect Mother and the over abundance of seidr everywhere. The blanket, woven with the finest gold shearling wool, was full of protective seidr and included spells for love, happiness, and prosperity. He knew that his mother couldn’t have woven a better one and he found himself draping the blanket over his bump as he sat in his favorite arm chair most nights, rereading Thor’s workings of the day, making his own notes, or reading a baby book or two. It brought him comfort and it calmed the babe within him enough to allow him to get some rest.

_ _ _ _ _

Loki looked stunning, not that the other man would believe him if he told him, but pregnancy truly suited him. The beautiful curving of his body in ways he had never imagined made Loki the image of fertility, which spoke to him deeply as the God of Fertility. His hair was the longest it had ever been, tumbling down his back in thick ebony waves, further emphasizing the curve of his spine almost more so than his ballooned abdomen, swollen breasts, and rounded butt. It wasn’t that he looked feminine because he didn’t. If anything, he looked stronger.

Of course, since he hadn’t told his husband where they were going, Loki looked a cross between angry and wary, his arms crossed beneath his bosom as he was backlit by the Bifrost. Admittedly, with his fur cloak about his shoulders, his husband must realize that they were going somewhere that required him to bundle up just a bit.

“Thor,” he stated, his voice simultaneously pointed and flat. “What are we doing?”

He smiled at his husband, offering his hand to him with a gleam in his eye. “Come with me, and you’ll find out!”

Rolling his striking eyes, the Jotunn accepted his hand. “Lead on, my King,” he said, his lips quirking into a side smirk. “You’d better not have me walking all over earth and creation because I am swollen and fat and your child is making breathing incredibly difficult.”

“Ah, _my_ child,” he chuckled, wrapping an arm about his lover’s shoulders and pulled him close. Pressing a kiss to Loki’s brow just beneath his right horn, he continued, “And there will be very little walking involved. I swear.”

“Good,” the Jotunn shot back, his hands shoving beneath his abdomen to help stabilize it, “Because Gungnir is ready for a test drive.”

He pressed another kiss to his husband’s brow. “As you say, Loki.”

He turned slightly, and nodded to the ever-watching but ever-silent Heimdall. The tall, gilded man, gave him a small incline of his head and turned the Bifrost key. The action sent them speeding through space, hurtling through time until they arrived at the destination that he had planned for.

Loki leaned into him heavily, stumbling on the landing due to his shifted balance. “Careful, Beloved,” he murmured, helping the other man to stand upright once more.

“Uncle Loki!”

The jovial cry of his nephew, Ulfr, was accompanied by the rush of cold at the retreat of the Rainbow Bridge.

They found themselves outside of Loki’s little cave, some of the winter having retreated into what the Jotunn could claim to be summer. The sky, lit with the shifting Aurora and a brighter than usual sun, caused the snow to look like flecks of mica or diamonds instead of dull snow.

The gathering facing them was one that made him want to grab Mjölnir but he allowed his free hand to simply flex and close into a loose fist. After all, it was difficult to stand before the might of the Jotunnheim Court and not feel threatened. It was the one thing that he understood as he stood there with all the gathering except the couple century old child towered over him: His father was afraid of the Jotunn and, thus, vilified them.

“Welcome Home,” Helblindi, King of Winter, intoned, his voice turning upward in a small smile, his long, sharp teeth flashing. “Little Brother, I am glad to see you well.” His eyes focused on the distinct rounding on his husband’s torso.

“Thank you, my King,” the Jotunn beside him replied, his hands covering the baby bump that thrust from his abdomen almost protectively. The man shot him a hard glance with a half hidden scowl. “If I had known we were coming to see you, I would have worn something a bit finer…”

“It’s a surprise party, Uncle Loki!” Ulfr chimed in once more, his face split with a broad grin. “Thor wanted to surprise you - Are you surprised?”

The horned head beside him nodded, his fangs flashing in a bright smile. “Of yes, I am quite surprised.” His brow furrowed as he animatedly looked back and forth, “But where, dear Ulfr, is the party?”

The younger being laughed and grabbed Loki’s twisted hand, tugging him away in short strides towards the other assembled Jotunn. He followed, noticing that as he drew closer his significantly less attuned gaze was able to focus on long tables carved of ice and benches of packed snow covered in what the foreign court no doubt thought to be a fine feast. Of course, looking at what appeared to be blobs of green algae, oddly shaped roots of a purple shade, and thick, long slabs of raw meats, his stomach was less than hungry.

Still, he followed in his husband’s footsteps, nodding and smiling at those that he passed, but remaining nonthreatening and quiet. After all, this little gathering was not the biggest surprise he had hoped to give Loki and the other would not occur if he rattled the locals.

As his lover sat heavily, releasing a slow hiss, he quickly claimed a seat to his right, leaving the head of the table for the King of Winter. Helblindi took his own seat, a grin still plastered on his face. Others quickly settled along the benches, Prince Byleistr, the mated second prince taking a seat across from Loki, leaving him to face the lesser known mate. Ulfr, ever the rebel apparently, took the seat beside him, still beaming.

“Sire,” the Jotunn child said, “Meet Thor, King of the Aesir.” The young being gestured to the large, craggy warrior across from him. “King Thor, this is my Sire, General Thrym.”

He felt his eyebrows raise at the name, well aware of the Jotunn. He was a formidable warrior and a cunning general, second only in his mind to Loki, in his opinion. After all, the Great War with the Jotunn had raged for over a century thanks to his cunning tactics - tactics that his own father had forced him to study ad nauseam in his youth. “It is an honor, General Thrym,” he stated, inclining his head as his open hand pressed over his heart. “You are an incredible tactician and a general that is truly paramount.”

The larger (more intimidating) being, gave him a small incline of his head as well. “It is high praise to hear that from you, Thunderer. All the Nine knows of your might. Besides,” the older being sighed, coursing his arms over his broad chest and his head tilted towards Loki, “Your mate has surprised us both in his short time as General here.”

He nodded. “He is quite extraordinary.”

The loud clearing of a throat stopped their conversation, heads swiveling to the head of the table.

Helblindi rose, raising a glass of something that looked like bad milk, and toasted his husband, “We are gathered here today to honor my youngest sibling, Prince Loki of Jotunnheim and Asgard, wedded to Thor, All-Father of the Nine, King of Asgard, and the upcoming birth of their much desired heir. It brings the people of, not just Jotunnheim, but all the Nine Realms joy and hope to see a child such as this, with such power, welcomed into the worlds.” The glass rose higher. “Congratulations, Prince Loki and King Thor!”

“Congratulations!”

The sound roared from the rest of the table before echoing about them from the ice sheets that surrounded their slightly sheltered gathering.

It was then that he realized that Loki had risen from his place, the Casket of Ancient Winters pulsing between his gnarled hands. “Thank you,” he began, his voice strong despite his reduced lung capacity in recent days, “For this welcome and this opportunity to share in our joy. This child - nay, this marriage - is not simply one of two people but one of Yggdrasil. It is our hope that the Nine Realms will prosper under our care and that of our heir, but, as is only right, I cannot do that knowing that Jotunnheim lives without her heart. So, as All-Bearer of the Nine Realms, I return to you, on this day of celebration, the Casket of Ancient Winters. May she help rebuild and strengthen the ties between Jotunnheim and all the Realms both now and in the future.”

_ _ _ _ _

As he stood there, at the doorway of his favorite place in all the Nine, so full of child he couldn’t remember being comfortable, he couldn’t believe that Thor had arranged this for him. It had initially looked exactly the way he had left it when he had made the rather rash and brave decision to return to Asgard to face the then unknown prison sentence from Odin.

Upon closer inspection, he noticed that the furs were flat and pristine, stacked high on the cot that he and Thor had somehow both fit on. The icebox door was closed instead of open, meaning that it was stocked. The shelves, which he had left nearly bare with a few tins of flour and oil for bread, were piled high with all the essentials. His kettles looked recently clean and well cared for. A small fire flickered in the fireplace, warming the air of the ice cave without melting the walls.

“Are you surprised?”

His husband looked tentative, unsure. It was something that the King of Asgard revealed to him on occasion. It was an honor, he realized, that only he saw and it touched him deeply.

“You-you prepared this for me?” he stammered, shoving his hands beneath his belly full of bouncing child. “Huh-how?”

The Thunderer beamed at him, wrapping him and their precious package in his strong arms. “It was simple, really,” he murmured into his ear, making him shiver with the heat of his breath. “I made a meeting with your brother and I asked if he would permit you to birth here. He agreed, of course.” The man paused to give him a kiss on the cheek, making him lean into the man’s warmth. “He really cares for you.”

He smirked, turning his awkward body to face his lover. “So do you.”

Thor blushed, his face turning the same shade as his cloak. It was something that he loved and wanted to see far more regularly than he did. “Well…,” the man muttered, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as he continued to turn red.

“I _love_ it,” he breathed, pressing his chilly hands against the man’s fur-covered torso, “And I _love_ you.” He took his husband’s lips with his own for a heated but chaste kiss, as his body was not capable of much else at the time. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

The Thunderer brought him further into their little hovel of a cave, seating him on the suddenly low bed, and moved off to begin heating some water in a kettle over the fire. “Hela and Nanna will come when your time comes and I’ll be here every night,” he explained as he worked. “Heimdall will let me know if you need anything-”

“You mean, you’re not staying?” he asked, his voice trembling a quiet.

The blonde head shook. “I can’t, Loki. I have a realm to run.”

His brow knit, confusion settling over him. “Are you keeping me out of the way for any particular reason, Thor? I may be gravid but I can still travel for a couple of weeks yet. Your child is quite content to wait.” He rubbed his swollen side as he studied his husband’s back. The Thunderer refused to look at him, keeping his eyes downcast at the meal he was preparing. _What are you hiding?_

“I am not _keeping you out of the way_ ,” his husband inserted, his voice muffled by the furs on the floor. “I simply wish for you to be as comfortable as possible. I know it is hot on Asgard and the heat is making it difficult for you to sleep comfortably among other things.”

He crossed his arms over his aching blossom and glowered at Thor and his terrible excuses. “And what of my responsibilities?” he queried, his voice pointed and sharp. “I cannot abandon Asgard because I’m going to give birth within the next four to six weeks. What precedent does that set for our people? They barely tolerate me already; if I abandon my spot at your side so early…I fear what they will think of your chosen wife then.”

That statement finally caught his husband’s attention, snapping his head up to look at him, his eyes shifting to that stormy grey that meant his own emotions were high. “Oh and what will they think?” he snapped, his jaw setting. “That I care for you and for the safety and health of our heir?”

“No!” he shot back, barely listening to the Thunderer’s words, his own temper flaring, “They will think that I’m incapable of fulfilling my duties, or that I think too highly of myself to perform my duties just because I’m uncomfortable, or that I’ve had the child but you’ve sent me away for bearing you a child that looks like me!”

They glared at each other, their jaws set and their frames immobile. The silence between them was thick, only broken by the bubbling of the hot water and the crackle of the fire below. His tongue, once more, had torn a hole in their relationship and he’d instantly regretted it. But, he wasn’t going to apologize until Thor told him why he was being shipped off to the wintery wastes of the Jotunnheim summer.

The blonde man inhaled deeply before licking his lips, his facial muscles softening ever so slightly. “So…is that what this is about? You’re worried that our child will be Jotunn?”

“No!” he snarled, “I don’t care if this baby is Jotunn! I care if it’s deformed and hideous. That still doesn’t tell me why _you’ve_ brought me here so far before my time.”

Thor stood, moving over to him a look of sheer determined exasperation on his face. “Loki. I love you. You have served Asgard well and you have been pushing yourself too much. I’ve spoken with Eir and she agreed that it would be best for you to deliver on Jotunnheim and that you would not be able to travel along the Bifrost much past now. If the Aesir people have a problem with it, they will have to deal with me. And, more importantly, they will have to deal with Lady Eir, who, as you know, is quite fierce.”

This time, he heard the words his beloved said to him and he realized that the King of Asgard truly, deeply, cared for him in ways that he would never understand. “You did all that for me? For our child?” he murmured, his voice soft and quivering. Tears came flooding to his eyes as he bit his lips to keep from sobbing uncontrollably ( _Damn hormones_ ). “I’m so, so sorry, Thor. I was an idiot. I love you. So, so much.”

Thor, Norns bless him, seemed to melt as he cried, any attempts to keep from doing so failing utterly. He strode over to him and pulled him into his warm, gentle arms. He leaned into the sensation still muttering that he was sorry.

“Shhh, Beloved,” his lover breathed, pressing firm and fervent kisses to his brow and cheeks, “It’s alright. I should have been more forthcoming. I just wanted to surprise you.”

“It was a wonderful surprise,” he blubbered, “I love it. Thank you, Thor.”

_ _ _ _ _

His days were an odd conglomeration of busy and bored, terrified and prepared, anxious and eager, helpful and helpless. The latter came from his connection to Asgard and the mundane reports and paperwork he was receiving along the Bifrost, much to his siblings’ mild annoyance. Both Helblindi and Byleistr were keeping him occupied with their own list of wants. Technically, he was still the leading general of the Winter Realm, so he obeyed, ever the servant. And, though he thought it was quite clear without saying it aloud, he enjoyed being busy. _Anything_ to get him out of his lonely, though cozy cave.

The Jotunn reacted very differently to his pregnancy than the Aesir and he wasn’t entirely sure if he liked the experience more. The enthusiastic smiles and well-wishes rained down on him from on high at every turn, from the moment he left his little cave to the moment he returned. Having giants ask to touch his stomach, give him their blessing, or inquire as to his due date and his birth plan was something that he was certain he did not enjoy. It was invasive and he was so used to repulsing those around him that being touched in an action that felt so intimate to him by complete strangers was something that made him shiver. After the first few attempts, he finally snapped, his tongue lashing the Jotunn who had stroked his belly without permission. He had regretted it almost instantly and he apologized (a rare move for him) but the unwanted advances stopped after that. Though it did nothing to stop the sickly sweet comments and well-wishes. The Aesir’s curiosity and disgust was almost better because they generally left him alone, as if touching him or wishing him a healthy pregnancy made them Jotunn, too.

Evenings were his favorite part of the day. He escaped from his work, whether Asgardian or Jotunn, and Thor arrived, bearing gifts of food, company, and, every now and again, baby items. He had received little things at first - a stack of cloth diapers, a couple of bibs, a pacifier - along with some of his favorite foods, things like smoked pigs ears and bones with the marrow still inside. The gifts became more extravagant with each passing day - a silver rattle shaped like Mjölnir handcrafted by Niflheim dwarves, luxurious items of baby clothing woven from the golden fleeces of Vanaheim sheep, and, on one amazing occasion, a hand carved mobile to hang above the bassinet in the shape of Yggdrasil, each realm carved from a precious tree found there exclusively.

Many of the gifts did not stay in the little cavern; instead, he sent them back with Thor to further furnish the nursery, pleased that it was coming together despite his absence. He kept a few helpful items, such as diapers and burp cloths and clothes but knew that he would not remain in the Winter Realm too long after giving birth. While he was quite comfortable in the chill, he knew that his family would not wish to linger - even the babe might not take to the cold was well as he did. The summer months were still bitter cold when the weak suns rays disappeared and the aurora flooded the skies.

This evening, his husband had beaten him back to the cave, beaming at him as he opened the icy door with a flick of his wrist. He had a kettle boiling with water for tea and his dinner, raw and crusted with ice, set on the little table he had brought a couple weeks previous.

“Loki!” Thor perked up at his entry, his feet and back throbbing from his walk back from Utgard. Despite his aches and pains, he beamed back at the King of Asgard.

The Thunderer moved towards him, sweeping his awkward frame into his strong arms and pressing a fervent kiss on his mouth. He reciprocated even as he blinked as the man’s eagerness even if he just felt weary. The child was enormous, taking up the space where his lungs, stomach, and other innards should be, and it was restless, wriggling about when he longed to sleep. He knew that things were better here in Jotunnheim; he was significantly more comfortable. The summer heat on Asgard would have been metaphorically killing him, wilting him like a flower in the desert.

Thor stepped back, still holding his wretched hands and beaming at him like he held all the answers in the universe. “Loki,” he repeated, grinning like a buffoon, “I have a special surprise for you today.”

The man gently led him through their little sanctuary, expertly moving around his little cooking fire to gently settled him onto the taller of the two stools. He settled his bulk, slipping a hand beneath it to steady his burden, with a weighted sigh and a quirked eyebrow. “I hope that you have not done anything reckless, Thor,” he muttered even as he eagerly awaited the gift from his loving husband. If anything, he enjoyed the pampering because he had not truly ever been given such rich gifts after his childhood. He did not mind that most of the gifts were for the child he carried, knowing how the child was, in turn, a gift.

The blonde shook his head. “It cost me nothing, as it comes from Mother.”

The words sliced through him before he gasped, “How?” His eyes flashed to the miniature portrait that sat on the table, Frigga smiling back at him in that comforting manner that he hoped would one day grace his own features.

His husband must have grabbed the gift that would be more precious to him than anything else while he looked at the woman that meant so much to the two of them because when he turned back to the King and found a large brown paper package on his lap. Tears perched in his shining blue eyes, Thor offered it to him.

He accepted it with shaking hands, feeling the weight of it. Slowly, he slipped a claw under the string that held it together and, with a swift motion, snapped it.The sharp ping echoed about the cavern as the paper fell open on the table.

Sitting there on the table was a baby blanket. It was a patchwork of five colors: scarlet, navy, emerald, black, and brown. The first four were rich materials, hands-on from the finest shearing wool, hand washes until they were softer than clouds. The fifth, the muddy brown, was a rough homespun, weathered and worn. His shaking hand, hideous and twisted as it was, gently stroked the perfect gift.

“It’s made from our baby blankets,” his husband murmured, “All of them.”

He swallowed, his throat dry even as his cheeks were very wet. “How?”

“She was the Goddess of Fertility. She knew.” Thor’s voice cut out as his own grief gripped his throat. “She knew.”

He reached out, grabbing the Thunderers hands with his own even as the child in his lap twisted and rolled. Struggling for air, he squeezed the hands he held even as his other hand stroked the blanket. The final gift from his mother.

After a few moments of struggle, he wiped his tears with a trembling finger. “This is the most precious gift I could ever have been given,” he breathed, sniffling a bit as he tried to collect himself. “Thank you.” Blinking back the next surge of emotion, he asked, “Where did you find it?”

His husband exhaled shakily. “I found it on Mother’s workbench. Everything else had been put away…” His head shook as he looked down at his hands. “It’s as if she knew.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat once more. “I’m sure she did. Mother had the gift of premonition.”

“The one thing I don’t understand is the brown,” the Thunderer murmured, “I had a navy and scarlet blanket, as you had your emerald and black…”

“The brown was my first blanket,” he muttered, a new thought striking him that he hadn’t considered in so long. _Odin, despite his flaws, adopted me from the blood-spattered snows for some reason. Maybe, just maybe, it was this…_ “Odin brought me home wrapped in his cloak.”

Thor released an awed exhale. “I forgot…”

“You were young,” he stated, “Childhood was a long time ago.”

The silence stretched between them, punctuated by the bubbling of the water in the cauldron. Slowly, Thor rose and finished preparing their meal, his practiced hands pouring their cups of tea and getting his warmed stew before sitting across from him once more. He pulled the blanket off the table, settling it over the child that had settled within his abdomen. Unable to resist the urge, he smoothed the quilted squares once more before asked, “Are we ready for this?”

“Parenthood?” his husband asked between bites. He gave the man a small nod. The blonde shrugged. “It is said that no one is prepared for what is to come.”

Sighing, he breathed, “I just…I want to be like her, Thor, and I don’t know if I am capable of it.”

“You are capable of being you, Loki, and that is more than enough.” The words, meant in earnest, stung like icicles.

“I am selfish, manipulative, capitalizing, and calculating. I lack patience and am quick to anger and slow to forgiveness - none of those are good qualities for a mother.” The words were directed at his nonexistent lap that his hands still cradled.

“You are all of those things, I grant you,” Thor agreed. His words hurt but the hand the covered his own hideous one, removing it from his belly to hold on the table, was gentle. The sky blue eyes- his favorite eyes - were earnest and tender. “But please, Loki, do not think that those are bad things. They would be, if you used them for your own gain, but you don’t. You give them to others, just as you will give them in defense and love of our child. Besides,” the blonde smirked, “You would not be Loki if you were anything but what you are and I would only marry Loki.”

Unable to stop himself, he smiled.

_ _ _ _ _

He knew how Loki was continuing to work despite the nearing due date of their child, which is why he wasn’t surprised that he fell asleep swiftly after they had finished their meal. With a few protests from the Jotunn, he had tucked him and their child in, pulling the furs up to his chin and placing their Mother’s blanket on top. It was a precious picture, the man he loved losing the lines of stress and worry that marred his features in slumber. The silver lines of his face lost a bit of their sharpness and they shone in the muted glow from the aurora that shone through the ice of the ceiling. He was breathtaking and he had chosen to wed him and to carry his child.

There was little space for him on the cot but he didn’t mind. When he had been recovering, Loki had slept on the floor for him and now he would do the same for his beloved. He had spent many a night on the hard earth through the numerous campaigns he had participated in and the furs were rich and plush beneath his body. It also placed him next to the fire, allowing him to keep a small flame burning to help ward off the Jotunnheim chill.

As he lay there, swaddled in his warm winters as he listened to his husband’s slow, easy breaths, he reflected on how lucky he was. After he had lost his brother, he had given up on finding this…perfect relationship. It was far from easy; Loki was not what anyone would classify as a subdued wife who would quietly support him in all of his endeavors without question. In fact, his husband was quite the opposite: vocal and contrary and obstinate and frustrating at times. Those moods, however, were what made him perfect because he made him see things from a different perspective. It was that perspective that helped him become a successful and just ruler. For that, he would be forever grateful and blessed. The fact that he was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on was an added bonus.

Smiling softly, he closed his eyes, shutting out the aurora’s light show above him and the flicker of the fire side him. He knew that he would be up in an hour or so, woken by Loki and his desperation for the bathroom and, as much as he was loathe to admit it, he had a country to run in the morning and a husband to leave behind for another twelve or so hours.

As he did every night, he breathed, “I love you, Loki.”

From on high, he heard, “I love you, too, Thor.”

He positively beamed before relaxing into a comfortable slumber.

_ _ _ _ _

He was not surprised to find himself in the painful state of labor alone in his little cavern. Walking to the capitol had become impossible, the walk growing longer with each passing day until his King, Helblindi, finally told him to stop. They would come to him if the need for his counsel arouse. It had only been five days previous and he had found himself slipping into boredom. Thor, in an attempt to be considerate, had only left him with merchant and trade reports to occupy his days.

Knowing that Heimdall was watching, he murmured a prayer to the Norns and waddled out to his pool. He knew that the weightlessness of the water would help ease some of the pain the gripped his abdomen and lower back. He brought nothing with him except the one item that he had not relinquished since it had been gifted to him: Frigga’s blanket. The child would need to be wrapped in something to ward off the chill in the summer air of Jotunnheim.

As he staggered, his strides hampered by the intense amount of pressure coming from between his legs, he hoped that his sisters would be swift. The child did not seem to wish to wait any longer.

At the thought, hot liquid began to dribble down his legs. “Norns!” he hissed as the pain redoubled and the weight settled even lower. All the muscles in his abdomen contracted at once and something large, deep within him, began to push against something with only a little bit of give, catching on the edges. “Not yet, child!”

Bow-legged, he moved as quickly as he could to the cool pool, and waded in. The pressure didn’t ease as much as he had hoped, but the sharp, shooting pains that had been chasing his legs eased. He was panting, his breaths disappearing in large puffs of cloud as his left hadn’t gripped the rocky edge of the pool and his right tentatively reached as far between his legs as he could manage, pushing his penis out of the way to part the thick lips that housed his balls behind it. His middle finger was the only one long enough to trace the widening hole between his legs, telling him that this was indeed labor and that it was moving as swiftly as he had thought it was.

The water between his legs grew warmer as he knelt there, unmoving, his waters continuing to drip from his body. Despite the pressure, he resisted the urge to push, knowing that he wasn’t ready yet. Instead, he released his breaths in steady hisses, feeling the baby press against his slowly opening cervix. It was a terrible feeling, like a wound that hadn’t healed that was being torturously reopened with a blunt instrument, and he sympathized with all other women and Jotunn in the Nine who had to do this. It truly was an act of selfless love.

“Loki?” his eldest sibling called, her voice echoing off the icy crags.

“Here!” he screamed, another contraction forcing all of the air from his lungs in a rush that finished with a roar that he had only produced on rare occasions, primarily while he was on the battlefield.

The crunch of snow made him pick up his head and he panted, feeling fatigued. As Hela and Nanna came into view, he couldn’t help but chuckle a couple of times. “Took you long enough.”

“This realm is impossible!” Hela complained, “No signage anywhere! Everything looks the same!”

“We’re here now,” Nanna stated in her low, comforting voice as she knelt beside his head. Her hand reached out and gently stroked his hair, brushing some of the frost-coated strands from his face. “And we won’t leave until you and the baby are both safe.”

He nodded, leaning into her touch for a moment before stiffening against another contraction. The baby, as if knowing that help had arrived, breeched his cervix. He spread his legs wider, as wide as the tightness of his muscles would allow in a kneel, and gave a strong push.

It was as if everything stopped because he had focused so fiercely on one thing. His breath held to increase the downward pressure and pushed his eardrums outward, making him deaf for a moment or two. His eyes were screwed shut and his sharp teeth gritted. All else ceased to exist. All that mattered was the push.

He could feel himself getting spread wider than he had ever thought imaginable, the babe slipping into his canal before stopping again.

A splash beside him broke his concentration and he turned his head to see Hela, the less susceptible of the two women to the cold, nearing his side in the pool.

Smiling at him encouragingly, she commanded, “Breathe, Loki.”

His breath rushed out in a gust. With the pressure released, the pain of being so open returned and, unbidden, he began to cry. “It hurts, Hela. It hurts so much,” he blubbered.

The woman rubbed his back, still smiling at him kindly. “I need to check-”

He nodded, knowing exactly what she had to do. He needed to be dilated to prevent tearing. Moments later two warm fingers probed his stretched entrance, the touch pushing the babe back ever so slightly. More tears eased from his eyes.

“What if I can’t do this?” he sobbed, “I can’t do this.”

“You can,” Nanna replied, lifting his chin to look at her kind and warm face. “You will.”

“You’re dilated,” Hela stated matter-of-factly, “Get ready to push.”

When the pain came, he did.

_ _ _ _ _

He could hear Loki and he wanted so desperately to go to him, but his sisters had informed him that he would simply make his husband more anxious with his presence. No, it was decided that he could sit and wait in the cavern upon his arrival shortly after the two women, After all, he needed to place Balder in charge in his absence and the man, while knowing it was coming, still needed to be briefed on the next couple of days of ruling.

He had also gathered little things that he thought he had forgotten, namely things like the bassinet and the hand pumps from the Avengers to help relieve Loki of any excess milk. In a last minute decision, he also grabbed Loki’s favorite robe, knowing that the man would be more self-conscious of how he looked having birthed a child.

Now, sitting and listening, all he could do was wait.

_ _ _ _ _

She had never been so proud of her children than in those long, agonizing minutes (hours) on Jotunnheim. Thor had learned so much from his stay with the Midgardians but she knew that he had learned more from his husband. His fear and worry was well-founded; childbirth was difficult. He was wise enough to see how the Jotunn made him a smarter ruler and a better man. He also knew that, while the treaty with Jotunnheim was pretty well in hand, seeing as he got along fairly well with his in-laws, the child his love was laboring to deliver was the one thing that lasting peace with the Winter Realm hinged upon. The fact that Thor wanted that peace at all told her so much and made her immensely proud.

Balder, as steadfast as ever, was handling the ruling of the realm with the grace that would have served him well if he had been blessed to rule. Her adopted son, the son of her husband’s first wife, would have truly been the perfect ruler for the Golden Realm. She was grateful that he was humble when handling the significantly more volatile Thunderer, giving him wisdom while still deferring to his authority. Every decision he made in Thor’s absence was made with his younger sibling’s thoughts in mind. Between his meetings, though, he prayed to the Norns for a safe and swift delivery for his youngest brother with whom he felt a kinship in their shared love of seidr and the library.

His wife was present, using her skills are a healer to aid her brother-in-law through the birth of his first child. She was murmuring encouragement to the Jotunn while giving firm instruction to her sister-in-law, her words controlling the entire birthing process almost more than Loki’s natural urges. She was remaining calm despite her extremities going numb with cold and the struggle before her. She was, in many ways, the closest to her and she knew that the Jotunn appreciated it more than he could ever verbally express.

Hela, her husband’s firstborn, Queen of the Dead, had taken her role as protector of her younger siblings very seriously. She knew that her job was to help Loki in any way she could, even if it was something that she had never done before and something she would never experience herself. She presence was another calming factor to her youngest brother, seeing as she had been his greatest advocate and his protector from a young age. She wanted to help and she was doing everything she could to be Nanna’s hands in the no doubt frigid water.

She was, however, the most proud of Loki. He had grown so much from the young Jotunn who had left Asgard because he would be bartered away to secure peace and be a wife. In some ways, he had become what he had dreaded, what he had spent so much time running from it. But, the biggest difference was that he had done it on his terms and without losing any part of his identity. He was a general for two realms, a consort that allowed him to use his knowledge and his skills, and had earned the respect of the Nine Realms, even if he didn’t realize that. But, more importantly, he had chosen to wed Thor and bear his children (And she was sure that there would be children), accepting that part of himself that she had always known would be the greatest part. Loki had such a capacity to love that motherhood would truly suit him; she knew it, and, deep inside, her successor knew it, too.

Even as she stood, watching from on high, she wished that she could have been there with all of her children, helping deliver her first grandchild into the worlds. Her hands longed to rub the ridges on her youngest child’s back, soothing the pain with her touch. They longed to catch the child as it slipped into the worlds.

“It’s here!” Hela practically shouted, her face beaming as Nanna preset kisses to Loki’s brow and pushed his sweaty hair from his face. “It’s a…”

Her voice trailed off, her brow twisting in confusion. Loki was slumped against the edge of the pool, his torso heaving with his breaths. Slowly, he rolled to face his sister, his face contorting as he passed the afterbirth. “What?” he asked, his voice hoarse and his eyes weary but wide with worry. “Is it alive?”

Hela’s head nodded as she swallowed. “It’s alive and healthy.”

The Jotunn’s chest continued to rise and fall jerkily, his mouth open and blowing large puffs of air into the cold. “What?” he panted, tears forming in the corners of his ruby eyes and flooding down his cheeks.

A heavy silence settled between her children for a moment before a shrill cry rose from the infant that Hela was clutching to her chest. Her son’s eyes latched onto it and his hands extended, longing to hold the babe he had just birthed. “May I?” he breathed.

Hela’s dark eyes met those of Nanna who gave her a small nod. Slowly, the woman extended her own arms and placed a surprisingly small child into the waiting arms of its mother.

The babe was a bit purple, as most newborns were, and its face was screwed up as it cried, revealing a pink tongue and gums. Its nails were black, like its mother’s, and the few sprigs of hair appeared brunette. They did little to hide the Jotunn ridges there. Tentatively, her son’s trembling fingers parted the thrashing legs, his visage falling as he saw what lay there.

Her grandchild was Jotunn.

_ _ _ _ _

“We shall need to name the babe, Loki,” Thor stated, beaming down at the bundle he held in his arms, swaddled in the blanket made by Frigga. “Something that befits its station.”

He watched his husband, not really seeing or hearing what was being said. His internal turmoil was too loud; as was his disappointment in himself. It had been simple, really.

All he’d had to do was give his husband and his brothers a perfect heir, a child to unite two worlds and he had instead birthed a child that only belonged to one - and barely at that. A Jotunn runt. _Just like me, a disappointment_.

“Thoughts, Loki?” his husband asked, blinking at him as he beamed.

The child in his arms had paled out, their skin like a fragile sky traced by the same silver lines that he bore. Their face, Norns bless them, had every feature like his husband except the nose, which was his. The eyes were a deep purple, bordering on black. He prayed that, in time, they would lighten as such dark eyes on such a pale face was unsettling and their gender was upsetting enough. Odin had proven that.

“Loki?”

A warm hand settled on to his shoulder, giving him a little shake. His eyes snapped to meet those of his husband, the worry visible in his gaze. “Are you alright?”

He shook his head. “I’ve failed you, Thor.”

The man he’d wed settled himself and their disappointing child onto the cot beside him. “Why do you say that?”

His mouth opened briefly before he pressed his lips together to prevent the prickling in his eyes from becoming tears. Thor, growing more observant by the minute, carefully wrapped a warm arm about his shuddering shoulders. He swallowed before sucking in a lungful of air. “Our child…”

The man beside him sighed, shifting the infant in his arm so that he could see the little face peaking out of the blanket. They were slumbering peacefully now, lips parted. “Our child,” the Thunderer murmured, “Our perfect little one, is more than I ever dreamed they’d be.”

“How can you say such a thing?” he asked, his fears rushing out. “The Aesir will never accept them.”

“The Aesir will love them,” Thor replied knowingly. “You want to know why?”

He didn’t reply, shocked by the man’s pronouncement and his bold statement.

The King of Asgard continued, “They will love them because they love me and they love you and this child comes from both of us. They are our heir and they will bring peace as we have done.”

The arm about his shoulder tightened, pulling him into the heated side of his lover and closer to the babe. They were so small, so delicate in his massive hand. “They do not love me. They will not want a Jotunn to rule.”

“They do, Loki. I have seen it even if you do not.”

The words sank into him even before he had realized it. Thor had grown more observant as he had withdrawn, that much was true. And they had made a pact that their child, regardless of gender, would rule. If Thor deemed it so, he couldn’t deny him. And, as he sat, propped up on pillows, how could he not gaze on that perfect little face and fall in love with the child. He had loved them for longer than any in the Nine except his own Mother, who had given herself to save them. If Frigga would do that, he could accept that life was changing and he had to learn to accept that not everyone and everything was out to get him.

“Elskadi,” he breathed, one of his claws tentatively stroking one of the newborn’s cheeks.

“Loved?” his husband breathed, beaming down at the little one they had created, “It’s perfect.”

End

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading and for following Thor and Loki on this journey! 
> 
> If you're looking for more, please check my page for more Loki/Thor adventures!


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